~Excerpt from my
Chatterbox: Inkwell
~Excerpt from my
~Excerpt from my lowly novel~
The Girl~
Sydney gazed longingly out over the rolling green hills and the wide blue ocean that stretched endlessly into the distance. The wildflowers were in full bloom, their heavy scent intoxicating. A pleasant ocean breeze ruffled the landscape, causing ripples of color to spread across thehills and her unruly auburn hair to fly freely around her face. The sky was that wonderful shade of summer blue she had always loved, and not a single cloud dared disturb its serenity. It was the most perfect day she could have wished for, and yet something felt wrong.
She frowned. On a day like today, what could possibly be wrong? Nothing, she thought, should disturb my thoughts on such a fine day like today. She grinned to herself. If Auntie were to hear her say that she would be sent to bed pronto with no lunch or supper.
Sydney closed her eyes and rolled lazily onto her back. The sunlight was warm on her face, the distant pounding of the waves on the rocky shore like a lullaby, tempting he rinto a relaxed and dreamy sleep. But no, of course she couldn’t fall asleep. Soon she would have to milk the cow, feed the chickens, tend to the horses, make lunch, clean the house, go to the market . . .
Suddenly, Sydney sat bolt upright and opened her eyes. That just reminded her: she had to go to the well to collect water for Auntie. That was why she had come outside in the first place. What had she been doing all this time? How long had she been here? Auntie would be absolutely furious.
Still trying to figure out how she could possibly have forgotten her chore, she picked up the buckets and dashed across the open stretch of land that separated Uncle’s property from the neighbors’. The well wasn’t far, just a short walk away, but Sydney didn’t want to be any later than she already was. So she raced to the well and then made her way home at a run.
(March 13, 2009 - 7:08 pm)
Mm, good. I like. Good description, without purple prose. Character manipulation even in a few paragraphs. A decent opening all around. Keep posting?
(March 13, 2009 - 11:47 pm)
And to get it up to the front again....
(March 14, 2009 - 12:20 am)
Truthfully it is very good. I really feel Sydney's feelings!
(March 14, 2009 - 7:54 am)
You really think so? I think it's a tad too fast, if you know what I mean . . . do you want me to post more?
(March 14, 2009 - 7:00 pm)
That's really good! Please post more! I think I may stop reading other people's writing because I always have a major dip in self-esteem afterwards. Oh well....moremoremoremoremore!!!!!
(March 14, 2009 - 8:29 pm)
Oh, Koffee!! Your writing's awesome!! Don't worry!! Better than--
Sydney sighed. Auntie was going to get her for this.
“It’s been an hour now!” she bellowed, spittle flying from her mouth, “And still no water! I even had to milk the cow while you were away to Lord knows where, doing Lord knows what. I’m telling you, if your dear old Mother didn’t insist on giving you a roof over your miserable little head, you would have left long ago! It’s a complete mystery to me why she even wanted to keep you, you sniveling brat!”
Sydney’s Aunt was a plump, rather ancient-looking woman, though she couldn’t be over fifty-five, and she loathed Sydney most of the time. She and Uncle blamed Sydney for the death of her Mother, who had died giving birth to her. “The night you were born,” her Auntie had said countless times, “you caused your Mother great pain. For days she labored for you to be born, and for what? Nothing! She died giving birth to you. She never saw your face. But the last thing she said was ‘Take care of the baby, make sure it lives . . .’ so of course I took you in, what else was there to do?”
What else was there to do . . .
“Sydney! Are you listening to me?”
“Nope,” she thought.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You ungrateful . . .”
Sydney hadn’t known her father very well—he was at sea most of the time—so when he died, it wasn’t too hard. It was the one time in her life when she was happy that her Mother wasn’t alive—it would have broken her heart.
They had received a telegram stating that The Faerie had sunk the next day. Auntie had burst into tears and felt so sorry for Sydney that she actually said “Oh, my poor darling!” and tried to comfort her. Sometimes Sydney felt that deep down, Auntie loved her.
But not now.
“What are you just standing around for? I said get to work!”
Sydney ran to the shed to get some chicken feed. She loaded up a basket and made her way to the chickencoop. She didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get away from Auntie’s wrath.
As she walked, wondering about what it would be like to have parents, she heard a faint, barely audible sound. She stopped dead. Straining her ears,she heard it again—a pitiful mewl.
Sydney crouched down and searched the tall grass. It was coming from someplace quite near, like that clod over there . . .
Pushing it aside, she gasped. A tiny kitten, soft and white, was curled in the grass, a piece of paper tied to its neck. It whimpered softly. Sydney smiled. She had always wanted a kitten, but Auntie and Uncle had never even considered it.
She picked up the trembling kitten and tenderly wrapped it in her shawl. She whispered, “What are you doing here all alone? Are you hungry?” But the kitten just mewled and stared unblinkingly at her. Its eyes were the color of the sea, she noticed, a grayish-blue.
“Meaw.”
Sydney grinned. “All right, all right, you can come with me.”
(March 14, 2009 - 11:45 pm)
It's GREAT. Please continue!!! :)
(March 15, 2009 - 5:33 pm)
Urgh....I broke my promise that I wouldn't read anyone else's writing. That's so amazing! I love it! No, my writing is not awesome, but I appreciate you lying. When will you post more? This is great-o-mondo!
(March 15, 2009 - 9:34 pm)
Do you REALLY think so? It needs something, I know it does, but I can't place it . . . *sigh*
(March 16, 2009 - 8:17 am)
OOOOOH!!! That's great!! Post more, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease???? :):):)
(March 16, 2009 - 11:46 am)
There is a Major-Dip-In-Self-Esteem bug going around the Chatterbox these days.
(March 15, 2009 - 7:25 am)
Yeah . . . I hope I didn't start it! :)
(March 15, 2009 - 5:30 pm)
:)
(March 16, 2009 - 7:33 am)
Here goes . . .
Sydney poured some milk into a saucer. The kitten looked ravenous. It lapped up the milk eagerly, and then stared pleadingly at Sydney for more. She laughed. “You were hungry, weren’t you, girl?”
“Meaw.”
Sydney had named the kitten Isa. She liked the name, and its three-letteredness suited the tiny thing perfectly. She crouched down and frowned at Isa, trying to figure out why she had been hidden in the tall grass. Had she been dumped? Isa really was cute, and Sydney was at a loss to explain why anyone would want to dump her so carelessly in the moor. She didn’t eat much yet: just a bit of milk would do it. So she couldn’t be expensive to feed. Maybe whoever dumped her just wasn’t ready for the responsibility of owning a cat. But cats could take care of themselves. Leave them in a barn and they’d do fine. So maybe she was feral?
Sydney suddenly remembered the note. She pulled it out of her dress. It was crumpled and dirty, and the ink was fading. She could just barely make out the words. Frowning, she started to read. It said:
“Good luck. And remember: this is only the beginning.
–Thespa”
(March 16, 2009 - 10:02 pm)
Ummm . . . Hello?!?!
(March 18, 2009 - 10:31 am)